


Wailing Bell

by PinkBellPepper



Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, M/M, Mind Manipulation, No Sex, No Smut, Pining, Silver Fox, Sleep Deprivation, ace is a silver fox, and philip is into that, one-sided
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 05:41:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,710
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27708500
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PinkBellPepper/pseuds/PinkBellPepper
Summary: The Entity thinks Philip needs a companion. Philip thinks otherwise.
Relationships: Ace Visconti/Philip Ojomo
Comments: 13
Kudos: 41





	Wailing Bell

The Wraith’s shimmering form slunk through the trees. His bell hung from his grip, other hand lazily at the ready to uncloak himself. But Philip Ojomo (who hated when the survivors used his killer alias) had been a little slow this trial. Not that he wasn’t following the Entity's whims, but if he saw a survivor out the corner of his eye, the killer would pretend he didn’t see them. When three gens were fully fixed, and no one had yet to be injured, the Entity planted a seed of pain in his chest. 

_ ‘Hook them.’  _ Came the simple, but threatening order. 

The pain subsided, but not without a final sharp jolt in warning. He could feel the physical emotions with the pain too. Impatience, frustration, boredom. If those feelings grew, the killer would be facing a very bad punishment. The Wraith sighed and picked up his pace. He saw the blonde woman - Laurie - run into one of the houses of Lampkin Lane. He followed her, unveiling himself behind her while she worked on a gen. He hated how she struggled on his shoulder. Hated how she cursed and hissed at him, spitting venomous words that The Wraith would never hold against her. He hooked her, another pang of guilt and tiredness wracking through his body. He left the woman to dangle, not bothering to even try and chase her rescuers. 

The pain in his chest came back. The Wraith fell to his knees. It was verging on the pain of when he first got here. When he refused to play this horrible game. 

_ ‘So you’re bored, then?’  _ The Entity’s anger was rolling. 

It’s words weren’t like the physical kind humans spoke, but raw emotions and feelings that were often cold. The Wraith breathed steadily through his nose and shook his head. He didn’t use physical words to respond back, just mental images. He showed The Entity how he felt, maybe hoping it’d take pity on one of its first, oldest killers and let him rest eternally. But The Entity prodded at his emotions, shifting through them as like one would a stack of photos. 

_ ‘Unmotivated. No purpose.’  _ The Entity said disapprovingly. 

The Wraith didn’t respond. Another gen went off somewhere. The survivors were taking advantage of his lapse. The Entity didn’t seem to care. It actually set off all the gens at once, and powered the exit gates on its own. There was probably a flurry of confusion on the survivors’ ends, but they didn’t squander the opportunity. He felt them leave together. At least the bell-ringer could take comfort in knowing they’d have something to celebrate tonight. The Entity seemed to spit in disgust at this thought. 

_ ‘You always were so weak-hearted. But perhaps that is what will give you cause to play my trials.’ _

Philip frowned. That didn’t sound good. But then the pain receded like fingers leaving his chest cavity, nails scraping the bone as they passed. He sagged in relief, but kept his head down, unsure where this was going. 

_ ‘I have given my other killers rewards… but your desires are more difficult to fulfill. Yet they can be.’ _

“What desires?” Philip asked. “I have none.”

_ ‘No?’  _ Amusement buffeted the cold.  _ ‘When my trapper’s claws catch his prey, or when my jester smashes a bottle into his target, I feel their excitement. Their joy. Their adrenaline. This is their happiness. But your joy is muted. Calm. Hard to detect, and only there when a survivor escapes or aids their peers. I understand this joy more now, my strange killer.’ _

“It is not joy,” Philip argued. He didn’t like the Entity dissecting him like this. It couldn’t be understood. This thing knew no sympathy, empathy or care. Philip regretted every second he gave into his murderous rage and allowed this deity in. “I do not like killing. I did it once in blind anger, and now I suffer for it.”

_ ‘All suffer in this realm. But your existence could be used to ease the suffering of another.’ _

“What do you mean?” Philip hadn’t expected that. He perked up, lifting himself off the ground. 

_ ‘Give me enthusiasm. Hook survivors and sacrifice them to me. In exchange, you can have one of them. A human to keep, to talk to, to keep free of pain. Whatever you wish, I do not care.’ _

Philip’s mouth went dry. “You can’t just give me a person. That’s wrong.”

_ ‘What is wrong and what is right? They have no meaning here. But your mind burdens you. I will be here when you choose.’  _

Philip blinked and was once more back at home. His little empty shack in a tiny version of the AutoHaven junkyard, made of welded cars and metal piping. A pang of loneliness struck him. And he thought what it might be like, to have someone to care for after all the brutal slaying he had to commit. Philip quickly tried to dissuade himself. This was a human he was talking about. The survivors all had each other. It would be like keeping a prisoner. Philip began to declutter his home. He refused to let his selfish desires get the better of him. 

But… The Entity’s offer wouldn’t leave his head. 

*****

Philip warred with himself everyday. The Entity didn’t bother him for a long time, and yet the offer stayed fresh, as if spoken seconds before. Every trial, The Wraith unconsciously began to observe more. He followed survivors in his cloak, looking and watching their faces and how they interacted with each other. 

The guilt had been hard to deal with. Philip knew he’d begun to watch them like a litter of puppies. Like he was choosing one for himself. One that was compatible, one that needed a new home the most. But as trial after trial passed, the guilt lessened. The idea of caring for one of these poor souls began to sound incredibly appealing. Philip couldn’t have known that the Entity was milking these feelings and making them grow. Now that it knew what it was its killer desired, it would take advantage in every way it could. In his growing confusion and influence, the Wraith did better in his trials. 

In one such trial, Philip was chasing a survivor through his territory. He followed their red scratches after a first hit. It was the soldier - Bill. The Wraith's thoughts ran fast, like bullet points.

Bill was tough. He was headfast and strong. A man used to hardship even before he’d arrived in this realm. Philip hadn’t considered taking this man. Bill would surely rather survive these trials than lay in peace. No. Philip already had a few survivors in mind. 

Dwight had been his first choice. He’d assumed the nervous man who bit his nails and still sobbed at pain, would like to be free of it. But then Philip observed more closely. Dwight was the survivors’ leader. He kept them together and patched them up with a light in his eyes that Philip didn’t want to extinguish. Dwight had his purpose leading these humans. So he was knocked from the list. 

Claudette had been his next choice. But like Dwight, Philip worried about taking her from her purpose. She was a healer, afterall. The best of the survivors. Her absence would decline the entire group’s chance at survival. But this proved true for a lot of survivors: Jake, Adam, Feng, Meg. Philip wanted to give one of them a new home, but worried that they’d be better off at the one they already had. 

Every time he saw another potential choice, Phillip would manage to dig through enough reasons to reject them. That was until The Wraith caught sight of a survivor he’d almost forgot existed.

He chased Bill, who had run ahead and quickly hid. Philip only knew where he was because of his pained gasps. Someone else was healing him. The Wraith didn’t uncloak himself yet and instead watched from behind the grass. His brow quirked. Philip didn’t recognize the survivor mending Bill’s wounds. Not at first. 

This man was always quiet. He had a habit of looking for chests instead of gens, and always wore a cap and a pair of sunglasses that made no sense given how dark it always was. And he apparently wasn’t very good at healing, because both he and Bill cursed when his fingers slipped. 

“Dammit, Ace,” Bill hissed. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Ace gave the soldier a lopsided grin. “These hands are better with cards, not gauze.”

“It’s ain’t that fuckin’ hard to wrap a bicep.”

“You’re crotchety old man levels are going through the roof today,” he smirked.

Philip tilted his head as Bill whacked Ace behind the head, calling him a dope and tugging him towards some lights in the distance. 

“This ain’t time for goofin’. Now let’s get. That damn Wraith is probably sleuthing around here.”

“I have a real good feeling about this match,” Ace said. 

“You ain’t the one with a gash in your side.” 

Philip followed from a ways back. Bill had sharp eyes and was usually able to spot his shimmering form with a sweep of the area. They didn’t notice him though, and crouched near a gen that was already being worked on. The survivor, Feng, greeted them with barely a nod. She was always focused on the game. Philip had his suspicions that she actually enjoyed it to an extent. At least, when she was winning. 

“Oh great, you had to bring this one,” Feng muttered, just loud enough to hear over the engine’s clamor. 

“Any help is good help,” Bill barked at her. 

Feng rolled her eyes and looked back to the wires. Bill jerked his hand, gesturing a hesitant Ace to start working. The man grinned, losing the brief look of uncertainty, and sidled up by the soldier. Philip readied his bell, feeling an unwarranted urge to go after the young woman. He paused and blinked. The moment of anger passed quickly. He never felt anger like that. Never towards a survivor. He felt The Entity hovering over him. 

_ ‘See something that interests you?’ _

He ignored the deity and took a deep breath. Calm and steady. The Wraith turned to pretend he saw nothing. There was another survivor around here anyway. But then the gen blew up. 

“Fucking, fuck! You dumbass!” Feng half-whispered, half-yelled at Ace. Bill was giving her a hard look, but Ace had his hands up, a meek smile on his face. 

“Sorry, I know, that was my bad.”

“Why don’t you go shove your head in a chest,” Feng told him. “God, you suck at skill checks.”

“Feng. This isn’t one of your video games. Stop raging,” Bill demanded. “Ace. Go look for a toolbox. The Wraith is on his way. We'll find another gen then circle back to this one. Go.”

Philip watched them part around the gen in separate directions, Ace taking off without a single lick of complaint. Just a nod, a grin, and a,  _ “Not a problem for Ace!” _ Philip followed him. 

The man ran off towards the cornfield. It was always easy to lose a survivor here. But Philip was steadfast. He kept up all the way until the man ducked around a building. The Wraith heard the second to last gen go off. He still didn’t stop looking, and was rewarded when he heard someone handling a padlock.

“Damn thing,” Ace muttered. “Oh~ haha, there we go.”

Philip peered over the boulder. Ace was grinning ear to ear, looking over a medkit. It didn’t look different from any of the others. Though, the survivors saw things the killers didn’t, and vice versa. Then the last gen went off, and both their heads went up at the same time. 

“Oh shit, looks like that’s my cue,” Ace said, tucking the kit under his arm. “Feng’ll have to forgive me with these kind of add-ons.” 

He dashed close to the border. Philip still didn’t uncloak. The Entity was still hovering over him, watching, but not prodding him. Not chastising him for spending so long in wait. 

_ ‘Would you like something like that? Something worthless?’ _

“He’s not worthless,” Philip said shortly. He reigned in the anger, the same he’d felt at Feng.

_ ‘I plucked him from a very bad fate. He’s very lucky, but he’s very wasteful with this gift. He’s my only survivor who still can’t get accustomed to the game. It’s pathetic.’ _

“You’re trying to convince me to take your reward,” Philip said bluntly. “But I’m not interested. He’s a human. He has human friends that I’d be taking him from.”

_ ‘You mean the girl? The soldier? They react like the rest. Frustration, annoyance… all just a different variety of pain I get to feed from. Loneliness is a pain too.” _

“He’s lonely?”

_ ‘Tastes very much like it.’ _

Philip shook his head again. He didn’t want to listen to this. But his chest pricked with a kind of excitement. An excitement he hadn’t felt since he was a kid, and he got to go to the local shelter to pick out a basset hound pup. Philip didn’t want to think about how bad that comparison sounded. 

“He doesn’t need my company.”

_ ‘You need more time. Think on it, my killer.’ _

And once more, Philip was blinked from the trial without consequence. He sat in his shack and mulled over the gambler and his rapidly shifting emotions. 

*****

Philip began to play a lot of trials. Way more than usual. The Entity would pluck him from his naps or walks, asking if he’d made up his mind yet. And every trial, despite the different combination of survivors around him, the gambler was always present. Like the Wraith, the constant back to back trials started to wear on the poor man. He was sloppy (sloppier than usual) and at one point, nearly walked face-first into an uncloaked Philip. 

“I do not want him. Why are you punishing us both for my refusal?” Philip asked during one trial. He said it aloud to the sky. The Entity was always watching. 

_ ‘Because I know you better than you know yourself. I created you, my killer. All I ask is you taste my reward. Take him for a night, give him a real bed to sleep in and real food to eat. Refuse me then, and I will relent.’ _

Philip didn’t listen. During a trial, when he hooked the gambler, he’d done so with growing anger. Anger at himself, at The Entity’s insistence, and his lack of down time. But Ace’s agonized cry and tears streaking down from under his sunglasses made that anger cool quickly. 

_ ‘Your refusal hurts him more. He’s tired. He’s weak. Are you going to idly let him suffer?’ _

Philip said nothing to that. He just wanted Ace to die on the hook and get some rest. The Wraith would drag the trial out as long as he could. So he did something he never did. He camped a hooked survivor. It must have been confusing for his peers as it was for Ace, who through his pain, gave the Wraith a worried look. Philip just stood there, staring, not bothering to care if he was being rude as he studied Ace’s partially obscured face. He was older, with patchy stubble that’d been shaved not long ago and gray hair peeking from his dirty cap. The Entity purred in his head. 

_ ‘I know things about you. Things before you took your first life. There are parts of yourself you left behind. Parts that the other killers have begged me to fulfill for them.’ _

“Stop.” Philip said aloud, quietly. 

_ ‘You were as human as them before. You still have human needs.’  _ The deity’s presence drifted lower and seemed to caress his thighs. Philip shifted uncomfortably.  _ ‘I know your preferences… what was it you called them in your first life? Silver foxes?’ _

If Philip had flesh and blood in his face, he would have blushed. An image of Azarov, his old boss, flashed in his head unwillingly. The man may have been the result of his doom in this hell, but he’d been handsome and kind to Philip before he knew what he was being used for. And he’d been exactly Philip’s type. Ace might have been a bit less put together, but Philip wouldn't deny his attraction. The killer’s chest tightened. This admission shifted something inside him and The Entity latched onto it gleefully. Claws came out and attacked Ace. He held them back, kicking out and yelling. 

_ ‘Think of how grateful he’d be. Look at his fear, his helplessness. Over and over, he will suffer this same agonizing fate. And perhaps that gratefulness would become something else.’ _

Philip gulped. He heard someone behind him but didn’t bother to turn. Someone ran to his right, leaving scratch marks and throwing some metal to the floor. Philip kept staring. Ace was staring back, eyes hidden but lips twisted in a grimace of fear. Philip didn’t like that directed at him. 

If he took Ace, he wouldn’t be in any more trials. He wouldn’t have to kill this man again. And it didn’t seem like the other survivors even liked him. Again, that anger resurfaced, just as Ace was finally sacrificed to the deity. His scream cut off with the squelch of gore. As his body descended to the sky, Philip turned and withdrew his skull. This time, he didn’t let his emotions cool. Especially when he spotted Feng trying to hide in the grass. 

The Entity gorged on the rare treat that was the Wraith’s anger. Philip barely noticed the claws digging deeper into his mind. 

*****

Ace couldn’t take it anymore. Fuck, he couldn’t do it. This hell was all about routine, right? And here he was, suddenly caught in some weird repetition with the Wraith. His nerves were fried. He felt jittery. He couldn’t sit at the campfire for five minutes without being dragged back to the fucking junk yard. 

God, he hated that place!

The others in the rather large (twenty-two and counting) survivor group, had taken notice too and while some worried for him, others had questioned what it was he did to piss off The Entity. 

“I don’t know, I keep asking myself the same question!” Ace exclaimed helplessly. Tapp had started to pester him again, certain that Ace had riled up the deity in some way. Laurie had tagged along with the detective. “Maybe if you stopped bombarding me with questions and actually helped figure it out, we could get somewhere!” 

“If we knew why this was happening, then we could,” Laurie said, ever level-headed. “Are you sure nothing comes to mind?”

The way she said it had Ace narrowing his eyes. “What does that mean?”

“Well,” Tapp interjected bluntly. “You’ve never really gotten adept at the game.”

Ace scoffed and crossed his arms. “Sure I have! I find you guys rare items all the time!” 

“Items can only do so much,” Laurie said, more softly. “We’re not criticizing you, Ace, but we have to look at how The Entity looks at us. This is a game to it and…”

“Oh what?” Ace asked haughtily. “I’m boring it?”

“You might be,” Tapp said. 

“Pshhh, yeah right. The deity loves watching me so much it won’t stop shoving me into trials!” 

“Calm down-”

“I can’t calm down, Laurie! I’m at my wit’s end with this! I haven’t had a moment’s rest since these back to back trials started and there’s no indication of them stopping!” 

“We’re trying to help.”

“No, you’re blaming me! Just- just leave me alone, dammit!” Ace stomped off into the underbrush, ignoring the few heads whose attention they attracted. 

Ace grumbled and cursed under his breath. He normally wasn’t so short-fused, but he was so damn tired! He marched deeper into the woods until the fire was barely glowing through the trees. Then he dropped, fingers gripping the edges of his dirty jacket, and tugged it around him like a blanket. It was cold out here, but it was quiet, and he hadn’t been called into a game yet. 

The anticipation of it was horrible though, and he started to sob. Heaving sobs that wracked his body. It was a release of his frustration and grief and anger. And though Ace liked to keep up a persona around others, he didn’t think any survivors would come out here to check on him. So he cried, and gave into the temptation of wishing for real death. A release he’d never get. 

He laughed into his hand, a smile breaking through his tears. It was a short bark of a laugh.

“God, I’d never thought I’d be here, wishing for those goons to have done me in,” Ace shook his head. His grin felt good. He stopped crying and started to chuckle into his palm. The giddiness he felt was just on the verge of turning negative, so he kept thinking about it. 

About how close he was to getting his legs bashed to dust with an iron pipe. How the head shark had a little knife he’d promised to gut Ace with from head to toe, but not before he removed his balls one by one. And Ace had to laugh, because the threats seemed so diminutive compared to all the shit he’d gone through. 

That death would have been long. But it would have been final. Over. Done with. There was no escape here. 

He sniffled, coming down from his high of emotions. He wiped at his eyes and put back on his glasses. “Alright, pull it together,” he told himself, cracking a grin. “You’ve been through worse, right?”

He already felt better. At least, that’s what he told himself. The gambler took a moment to even his breath, before laying back down with his face to the dark sky. He stared at the pitch black through the tree branches, which were practically invisible under his dark frames. Ace closed his eyes. His chest evened out and his breathing got slower. For the first time in a while, he finally got to sleep. At least, he almost did. Ace was in and out of consciousness when he felt the tug of a calling trial. 

“Fuck! Oh come on!” Ace had snapped from the ground, angrily tearing up grass before he was whisked away from the woods. 

_ Autohaven. How predictable. _

But as Ace blinked into existence, he was a little relieved to see another survivor at his side. Meg gave him a confused look, before it turned to pity. 

“I’ll be fine,” Ace said hurriedly. “What’s one more trial, huh?”

“Lay low behind me for a while,” Meg said, the duo starting to crawl through the boulders and grass. When they found a generator, she had him stay on the side that was easiest to escape from. Ace didn’t show the small bit of annoyance he felt at the coddling, because honestly, he was too tired to care. 

The wires and metal started their loud commotion. Ace saw Meg throw glances in his direction. She licked her lips, obviously wanting to ask something. Ace pretended not to notice. They had no idea what was going on. No one did and no one could help. Try as Meg might. Try as she had. Ace was alone in whatever this was. He was so lost in his concentration, he almost missed the growing heartbeat. Meg shoved him forward, falling behind him to take the first hit. 

Ace grit his teeth when he heard her scream. They split and the Wraith took off after the runner without a second glance. Ace fell behind a boulder and held his beating heart. The emotions he thought he had under control suddenly become too overwhelming. He tried to breath. Tried to count. Tried to do anything to stop the panic rising in his throat. 

“Stop it. Stop it, dammit, you’re Ace! You always weasel out of the shit thrown at you,” he stammered. “You got this. Calm down. Calm down. Calm down.”

The gambler had just enough sense to hear approaching footfalls. He sucked in a harsh breath and threw his head in between his knees. His breathing got more rapid. He could no longer hear anything but the ringing in his ears and the raging of his thoughts. 

_ Ba-dump! Ba-dump! Ba-dump! _

Ace couldn’t run. Even as his entire being was flooded with the killer’s terror radius. His body just shook. His breaths were near gasps. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t pull himself together. Ace just wanted this game to end. He didn’t care to play anymore. He’d just be tossed right back among the walls of crushed cars. But the killer didn’t strike. 

“Just do it,” Ace finally found his words. “Please, just get it over with.”

He wasn’t sure if the Wraith could even understand words. The thing probably couldn’t think for itself - just another tool to cause suffering. Ace flinched when the Wraith moved closer. Its morbid weapon hung by its side. Ace could see it from the crack in his arms. He braced for impact. But the weapon didn’t move. His body tensed as the killer’s empty hand reached for him instead. 

Gentle fingers prodded his arm. Ace shoved further back into the boulder, confusion making his terror all the more palpable. The fingers prodded again, digging into his sleeve to take his arm in a firm but non painful grip. A gentle tug and the fingers let go again. 

“It’s your fault… not his…”

Ace nearly jumped out of his skin. The Wraith spoke. The killer never spoke. Most didn’t. And here this one was, blaming him for something he was sure was the cause of his punishment. He didn’t notice the killer looking to the sky - to the dark clouds always above them. 

“I- I don’t know what I did,” Ace held up both his hands as if it’d help his case. “But if there’s a way I can make it up to you, well, uh, just let me know.” And though he was drowning in panic, his signature grin stretched across his face. An old habit to weasel out of trouble. But he didn’t get to see if his charisma worked on murderers. 

A rather large stone hit the Wraith in his shoulder. He grunted, turning rapidly to a running Meg. Ace took the chance to kick himself off the ground. He raced through the grass, feeling like a scurrying rat as the bell rang somewhere behind him. But it was wandering off. Ace hid for most of the trial. He found Felix not long after his encounter, and though the man noticed his state, Ace kept playing it off. Felix made a tight-lipped frown and went back to work on the generator. Ace started to help, but was too jittery. After two consecutive skill check fails, Felix led him away and told him to wait out near the border. 

“Hide and try to calm down, okay?” Felix whispered. “We can’t keep having you do trials over and over like this, Ace. You look worn. We’re having a meeting to make a plan.”

“We don’t even know why this is happening,” Ace argued. “I don’t think a plan is gonna be easy to cook up.”

“That sounds like defeat in your tone. I never thought I’d hear the Great Visconti like that. Don’t worry. We’ll learn whatever you did to anger The Entity.”

_ Seriously? Why does everything think I provoked the thing?! _

Ace didn’t argue. This was no place for an extended discussion. So he latched onto something other than his frustration. He was grateful that his friend was worried. The sentiment was nice. 

“Don’t fret about me. Just keep out of the killer’s way. I’ll try to calm my hands and jump back in-”

Felix gave him a pointed look and pointed at a cushy looking cove of trees and rocks. “No jumping. Go. Rest while you can.”

“Alright, alright. I’m going.”

Ace was silently grateful to slink into the dirt. The grass curled over his body and he peeked around the stone to watch over the small section of junkyard he overlooked. When someone screamed, it was from way across the map - Bill, by the sound of it. Meg was on a gen, injured, and Felix was steadily making his way towards their hooked friend. Feeling a bit useless, Ace rolled away from the view, only to notice a chest no more than a few feet away. A genuine grin brightened his features. He clasped his hands together. 

“Why hello there, darling. Didn’t see you there.” 

He crawled up to the lock to start working at it, the lid opening to reveal an ultra rare medkit. He whistled and looked back to Meg’s injured form diligently working. Felix may have gotten him to sit out for a few moments, but Ace (despite what Feng, Laurie, Tapp or David said) really did try to help others. So he held the kit close and made his way down the slope. He was barely halfway to the red-head when the killer and him ran into each other at a corner. Both jumped in surprise of the other, Ace turning tail and the Wraith giving chase. There was no gentleness from the weird interaction before. Just the bite of the skull as it downed him. Ace was almost grateful for the familiar pain of the hook. 

He could have done without Felix’s disapproving look though. The man had followed the Wraith as he carried the other, hiding in wait until the killer was far enough away to make a safe rescue attempt. Ace noticed that his time was almost out though. So he gave Felix a thumbs up as the man rushed forward to unhook him. Felix cursed aloud when the Entity’s claws got to Ace first. 

Body pierced several different ways, Ace was already anticipating the next trial as he died. 

*****

  
  


"Hey. You have a sec?"

"Nope. Probably going to be thrown right back into that damn junkyard again," Ace muttered, too tired to properly crack a grin. 

Dwight had just found him, hiding out under a tree with his eyes closing. It had been no more than twenty minutes since he died. The others hadn't returned. The trial was, thankfully, still going. And Ace didn't want to spend his precious free time being asked the same dumb questions. 

"I didn't do anything to The Entity, for the record." Ace mentioned. "And I'm 80% sure of that." 

"I'm not here to blame you," Dwight said softly. He didn't sit down. "I don't want to take away your time for rest, but I wanted you to know that I've made a game plan for you. Er, well, for the situation."

Ace couldn't help it. He chuckled. Dwight and his game plans. They were always meticulously detailed and hard to follow. Ace always fucked them up. They involved tackling a situation by giving everyone roles to follow. The problem was, there was a different role for every different combination of four survivors and one killer. And with twenty-two survivors and just as many killers, it was near fucking impossible to remeber them all. Most survivors (those who'd been here the longest) could start playing a game and know exactly what strategy to play from the first glimpse of the killer, adapting as they learned which survivors played with them. 

Was Ace good at these game plans? No. And as a result, his role was 'search for rare items' every trial. Dwight had done so, trying to ease the growing tension caused by Ace's memory issues. The poor man could hardly remember a single strategy. David and Feng had nearly killed him themselves. Most other survivors just thought of him as lazy. Ace just tried to keep up with the constant being murdered and all. 

"A game plan, huh?" Ace asked. "For the junkyard?"

"Yes!" Dwight lit up just a bit. He always did when discussing plans. "Jake, Meg, and Claudette are teaching all the survivors the combinations right now. They actually helped with them."

Of course they did. Those four were the original survivors, and had a bond that none of the others could replicate nor trespass upon. Ace was a tad jealous of the group. He had a few ideas that something more was going on between the four of them. 

"What does this plan entail exactly?" Ace asked warily. He wasn't sure his fried mind could follow the simplest instruction right now. His eyes were starting to close. He rubbed furiously at them. "I don't think I can do much for you."

"Oh no," Dwight said hurriedly. "The plan involves keeping you from the killer and getting rest. You're gonna pass out at this rate."

"And then? I get some rest, I'm back on my feet, and the trials just keep going," Ace said. When he noticed the slight dejection in Dwight's face, he reigned in his souring mood. One breath in. One breath out. He lost the tension in his body and cracked a grin. 

"But at least I can sleep. I really fucking need it right now. Thanks, Dwight."

The nervous leader nodded. "We'll figure out what's going on, Ace. I promise. This will just give you some relief until we do."

And just like that, Ace felt the tug in his chest. Dwight reached up to grab at his own. 

"Looks like we're going in together," Ace smirked. "Guess we can try out that plan of yours."

"Go to the Eastern most corner and wait for-" 

They vanished from the woods before Dwight could finish. But Ace got the majority of the message. When he stumbled on tired legs in the center of Autohaven, the gambler tiredly spun around, reorienting himself. He was pretty sure East was that way... right? He backtracked. No, maybe it was... He wasn't sure, actually, he realized in a moment of self-deprecation. Fuck. Dwight might be waiting for a while...

Ace chose a random direction and started to walk. He kept low to the ground, but was slow and noisy. When he found a good hiding spot behind a lone wall, he laid his head back and put a hand to his chest. His heart was beating from the exertion. 

_ Why couldn't the demon have pulled me into these trials when I was young? Being perputally old fucking blows. _

Knowing the skull would cut into him eventually, Ace closed his eyes. He just wanted to fucking sleep. He didn't care where it was. But even in the junkyard, it was surprisingly easy to fall under. 

..

  
  


...

  
  


.....!

Ace jerked away with a sudden rush of panic. His neck was cramped. It ached as he looked around wildly, forgetting he'd fallen asleep in a trial. His bleary eyes widened in shock. Someone was staring at him. Who knows for how long. The Wraith didn’t move from where it loomed above him. The terror radius was dim in his head. Poor Ace’s eyes were already drooping despite the immediate danger. He couldn’t take it anymore. 

"Please, just let me rest, please," Ace started to beg. Exhaustion pulled at his limbs. His fear was muted by it. The Wraith cocked his head. Ace felt some semblance of fleeting hope. "Please, please, this is torture."

The killer seemed to decide something right then. Ace tensed as it knelt by him and held out a hand. Ace stared. The killer waited, patiently. Its fingers made a gentle gesture to take them. He didn't. 

"I can't play anymore," Ace pressed. The hand still waited. "Just let me sleep here until The Entity spears me. I won't work on any gens, please."

The hand grabbed at his arm like it had before. Ace tried to jerk away from it, but it held firm. The grip wasn't painful though. Odd for a killer. And it didn't firm anymore than it needed to as Ace dropped with his full dead weight. He hoped to loosen the grip and make a run for it, but his struggles were sluggish. 

_ Maybe if I'm hooked, no one will bother rescuing me,  _ Ace hoped. But with Dwight in the trial, that was probably a no-go. Damn martyr would try to save a survivor if both his legs were gone. But Ace was dragged past a hook. That was confusing. And he realized that it was also weird that he wasn't slung over the killer's shoulder. He kept struggling, but it felt like he wasn't making any progress on wiggling free. 

"What's going on? Why aren't you hooking me?" Ace demanded. 

The Wraith didn't speak. It kept dragging him to one of the few shacks. Ace relaxed the tiniest bit, thinking it must be a basement hook the killer was after. But as he was forced through the doorway, he found it to be a room with nothing but two lockers and a chest. The Wraith opened a locker and tried to tug Ace inside. 

An image of the locker being set on fire or skewered through with blades flashed through his head. The unknown of it made him panic. Ace grabbed the edges of the container with his fingers and pulled. The Wraith took him by the shoulders, firmly pressed his back to the wall, and shut the doors. Ace shoved against them, but hissed as black mist suddenly spread over the red wood. Tiny claws pierced the doors and kept them sealed. 

"What the fuck!? Dammit, let me out!" Ace threw his shoulder against the doors. He cried out as his flesh was seared, the fabric of his jacket eaten away by little, orange specks. His frayed mind reeled in panic. 

On the other side of the door, the Wraith was watching as the Entity sealed up the locker, finalizing Ace's fate. The killer shuffled his feet as if unsure, when from behind, a generator blew up. With a final look at the locker, The Wraith left. Ace heard him go. He'd been expecting an execution of sorts, and was left unable to do anything but stand with his back to the wall. The black mist was nearly suffocating, and while he felt woozy, if he fell, it'd be right into the burning claws. 

"Ace?" 

"Feng? Oh, Feng, thank God, help me out of here! I think it's some new trap or something!" Ace pleaded. 

"Fuck-" he heard her curse alongside the sizzle of heated flesh. "I don't see how to get it open. Maybe there's a latch or a trigger around here."

Ace coughed. The black mist was getting thicker. It was hard to breath. "Please hurry. I, uh, I think this trap is suffocating me."

"Shit. Let me look around the area real quick," Feng said. 

Ace cursed, hearing her quick feet leave the building. He didn't want to be alone. Every creak and groan of the wood as the claws tightened made him flinch. He kept coughing. He was getting light-headed. He heard footsteps again. 

"Feng?" he called through the slot. 

"The Wraith is coming over here," she whisper-shouted. "I'll keep looking when he passes."

_ Unless he's coming back to finish me off,  _ Ace thought. He ground his teeth in anticipation when the terror radius began to grow. But the red light merely washed over the room and left. Feng crept out a moment later. 

"Dammit," she said. "Ace, are you sure you don't know how to get out?"

"Yeah, pretty damn positive," he barked back, feeling frustrated. 

Another gen went off. The last one. Ace's heart leapt at how close he was to an exit gate. To a pain-free escape. Yet he couldn't get out. Feng was mumbling hot curses under her breath. But she wasn't leaving, which was more than Ace expected. 

"I'm gonna check behind the rocks around here. Maybe it's some kind of hex or something." She ran out the shack quickly, obviously in a rush. Ace tried to kick at the door. The bottom of his shoe heated so fast, it burnt his toes. 

"Fuck!"

"Oh shit. Ace, I thought you were hiding in a locker this whole time!" Felix's voice floated through. Another pair of feet came running beside him. 

"Ace? What is that? Can you get out?" Dwight asked worriedly. 

Feng came running back in, out of breath. "No! I've been trying to find a way half the match, but he's stuck! 

"I can't move in here!" Ace said. "I think I'm gonna pass out soon too."

"Felix, Feng, go get an exit gate open. I'll... I'll try to figure this out," Dwight stammered. 

"We ain't got time," Felix said. And everyone went quiet, hearing the distant thud of an approaching heartbeat. 

"Gah, fuck this," Feng muttered. She ran at the side of the locker and threw her shoulder into the wood. It didn't even shift, and she held her shoulder with a pained grimace before giving the locker a hearty kick. "Fuck, help me break it open!" 

Felix and Dwight scrambled a moment, Felix grabbing a strong but old beam of wood and Dwight looking out the window for the killer. 

"He's passing the main lot. He'll be here in ten seconds," Dwight said. 

Felix grunted acknowledgement as he lifted the beam and jammed its sharpened end into the corner's edge. The wood on the locker shifted a bit, but didn't fully crack. 

"Ace, move to your left as much as you can."

"Got it."

_ Thud! Thud! Thud! Crack!  _

Felix was only able to get a small coin-sized piece to break off before the shack was flooded with The Wraith's presence. Ace heard the beam fall, then Feng's scream. Dwight screamed too. In the next few seconds, the scramble of bodies suddenly became eerily quiet. Cracked bones and pierced flesh pulsed against his ears. The timer had run out. The timer Ace didn’t even realize had been set off. All three of his friends were skewered and dead. But he wasn't. He was still trapped. 

He heard their bodies being dragged underground before the black mist began to dissipate. Slowly, claws unfurled from the doors, leaving little holes in their place. They swung open on their own, and Ace was petrified to find himself alone with The Wraith staring at him. He wasn't in the same building anymore. He was in a larger one, with metal walls, old curtains and boarded up windows. There was a bed in the far corner and a dining table and chairs. It looked used. Like someone lived here. 

"Where are we? Why aren't I dead?" Ace asked. 

The Wraith didn't answer at first. He walked up to him, and Ace missed his chance to run from the locker. He stared, pale faced. 

"You need to rest," the killer finally said. 

Ace wasn't sure how to respond to that. He jerked, shoulder slamming into hard wood, as the Wraith reached out for him. The hand paused before gently curling around his bicep and trying to ease him from the locker. 

"I won't hurt you," The Wraith promised. 

"I don't understand," Ace said. "Why didn't I die too?"

"You need to rest," came the same reply. 

"No! Just-just kill me. I don't want to rest here!" 

The Wraith didn't say anything to that. But his lips firmed up in thought. Ace kept tugging while the killer had his moment of silence. Then he was moving again, leading Ace out onto an old, musty carpet with flowery designs. A few candles were lit. Their orange glow glistened against the walls, which were made of smashed cars and barred piping. 

The gambler struggled as he was led to the bed. He could do nothing as he was lifted by his armpits and set on the mattress. He blushed a tiny bit at the action. Then the killer went to grab his sunglasses, and Ace was scrambling backwards. The sheets flowered around him, warm and soft against his cold, bruised hands. 

"N-no!" He shouted, hands coming up to keep his shades in place. "Don't touch them!"

The Wraith held up his hands peacefully. "I'm sorry. Please, rest. No one will harm you while you're here."

And then the killer stood and walked towards the wooden door on the other side of the shack. His bright, blue eyes glanced back over his shoulder. Ace shuddered at how piercingly cold they looked. Yet, the strange face they were set in seemed to soften in sympathy. Ace was so confused, he was starting to think he was dreaming. 

The Wraith shook his head and left through the door. Ace waited only a few moments before scrambling off the bed and tugging at the handle. It jiggled with a click: locked. Ace cursed and started to look around the rest of the shack. But besides a few books and more blankets stored in some cupboards, Ace found nothing he could use to escape. 

"Fuck, shit, fuck, shit," he kept repeating. "Why the fuck am I here?" 

He held his head in his hands, kneeling onto the ground as a wave of dizziness washed over him. The drop in his adrenaline and the warmth of this place was making his bones ache. He could barely push himself off the floor. The last thing he recalled, was staring at one of the candles and wishing himself to go home. 

*****

Feng hit the ground in shock. Her legs felt like jelly. They always did after a death from the Entity's ground claws. And she wasn't used to those. She never missed an exit gate. All because Ace had to get himself stuck in some damn trap!

She fumed, kicking at the dirt as she looked around at the other appearing survivors, just outside the glow of the campfire. Dwight and Felix were next to her, looking around in a daze as their minds caught up to their bodies. Dwight was the first to break their silence. 

"A-ace?" he called out, looking around. "Where is he? He came back with us, right?"

Feng's anger cooled, if only a little. She glanced around with Felix. And sure enough, the other survivor wasn't with them. Weird. 

"Maybe he's taking longer to get here," Feng tried to reason. 

"You mean because he was in a locker?" Felix asked. "A locker that wasn't letting him leave?" The man was already pushing past Feng towards the campfire. "I have a really bad feeling about this."

Feng worried her bottom lip before running after him. Dwight followed. But like the woods, the camp was empty of Ace. The other survivors looked up from their conversations. Not everyone was here, less than half. 

"Has Ace shown up here?" Dwight asked, near frantic. He was looking around, like the other might pop up from the shadows. Jake and Claudette were at his side in moments. 

"No, he hasn't," Claudette said. "Why, what's wrong?"

"He was in some kind of trap when we all died!" Dwight said. "I don't think he died with us when the timer ran out!" 

He didn't understand this trap. And if he didn't understand something, he didn't know how to tackle it. Jake took him by the shoulder. Claudette grabbed his hand and ran a thumb over his knuckles. 

"If he did, he has to be in the area. Claudette, can you take some survivors to search the woods? Maybe he did appear but needed a moment alone," Jake suggested. 

Felix shook his head, but didn't stop Claudette from asking Bill and Laurie to tag along with her. Quentin went with them, asking what was going on. 

"We tried to break it open," Felix continued. "But The Entity was holding it closed."

"The Entity?" Adam asked, alarmed. He had just sidled up to the conversation. "What's going on? Does this have to do with Ace?"

"He's missing," Dwight began. 

"We'll find him," Felix said at the same time. 

Meanwhile, Feng was quiet in the back, listening to everything and taking it in. She turned her head towards the dark woods. While Felix and Dwight tried to explain exactly what happened and The Wraith's strange behavior, she quietly slipped between the trees. Her pace only picked up into a run when she was out of view, eyes searching the dark. He had to be out here, maybe with his face in the dirt snoring. 

_ Fuck. You better be fine, you idiot! _

*****

Philip quietly entered the room. He'd taken a very long walk, still a bit unsure if this was the right choice. 

He hadn't planned on taking Ace that trial. But the man had seemed so completely worn. And when he had begged for the killer to let him sleep, Philip couldn't take it anymore. He just wanted the poor survivor to sleep in a real bed, and for this madness to end. 

So he put him on his own, and left, hoping the gambler would be too tired to attempt escape. Even if he did, there was nothing in Philip's home to aid him. He'd never been materialistic. Even in his human life. Philip wasn't prepared, however, to open the door and find Ace with his cheek to the wood, snoring loudly. His sunglasses were halfway off his face and cap was crooked. Philip blinked in surprise. A bed seemed more comfortable than the floor, but who was he to judge? 

Poor man must have been more tired than Philip realized. The killer gently picked him up, bridal style, and laid him back on the bed. Ace's jacket was folded, and the cap set on top of it at the foot of the bed. Philip didn't bother taking off the man's glasses. He seemed protective of them. So Philip just propped his head and body with pillows to keep him from turning sideways and breaking them. 

Then Philip pulled back and stared. He couldn't tear his gaze from Ace's face, eyeing the sharp shadows of his stubble or the pinched, worry wrinkles between his brows. Something struck a chord in Philip. A desire that hit him so suddenly he almost fell back onto his ass. The Entity was in his head, whispering and goading him to act on these desires. Desires it knew would trigger when The Wraith was finally alone with his reward. 

_ 'I know you better than you know yourself. You want this. It will help you and him both.' _

"It... it will help only you," Philip began softly. 

_ 'He's so alone. You're so alone.' _

"I don't see how a prisoner could help me with that."

_ 'Not a prisoner. A companion.' _

"No. No, he sleeps and then goes back to the others," Philip said. But there was a tiny quiver to his finality. A hesitance that he surprised himself with. It felt like sharp points were trying to drag more of this confusion and uncertainty from him. 

_ 'I could break the wall to your desires. To show you that I know best. This wall is so thin - so bare-thread thin - I could pluck it, and it would fall apart.' _

“No.”

To prove itself, a phantom claw ripped at the threads of Philip’s mind. He grimaced, stumbling backwards and grasping his head. A warmth bloomed in his lower gut. He felt his hands shake, wanting to fall down below and chase that feeling. The same one he used to get around Azarov. 

_ ‘Easy as pulling away a loose brick.’ _

Philip grunted. Something in his mind began to bend. Some shred of rationality that had been frayed by the endless years spent killing. His body was rigged. 

“I... “ Philip reached out, slowly caressing Ace’s cheek. A thrill went through his body from the simple contact alone. The Entity broke something. Philip’s breath caught in his throat. The light blue glow of his eyes shifted, dimming before flaring to life in a dark orange flame. 

_ This man was gorgeous,  _ Philip was consumed by his desire. A desire he’d been turning his back to, now faced fully like the light of a bright, forgotten sun. He hand lowered, trailing over loosened buttons and a gently sinking chest. 

“I’ll protect you, Ace,” Philip knew it was wrong, even as he spoke the words. But The Entity was right. He didn’t care anymore. 

**Author's Note:**

> An idea I had to get out my head, but never posted. A user @Thiocyanate wrote a cute one-shot about this pairing (read here --- https://archiveofourown.org/works/27691945 ) and I was excited to see someone else use these two and wanted to add to the lack of this rare pair!


End file.
